Chanson pour le Monde
by Random Guise
Summary: A one-shot that takes place after the book "Juxtaposition" in the Apprentice Adept series by Piers Anthony. Style and the Lady Blue have children now, but their son Chanson doesn't seem to be cut out to be a magician. I don't own Piers' original characters and I don't have a unicorn grazing in my backyard.


**A/N: This short takes place some years after Stile and Lady Blue's son has been born in the Apprentice Adept series.**

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Chanson pour le Monde

Father and son rode along the bank of the winding stream, enjoying the blue sky, green grass, purple mountains and the rising of Phaze's second moon. Both had ridden for an hour without speaking much; apart from the sounds of nature, only the mounts of the Blue Adept and his son had made conversation. Not in the normal sense, but as unicorns they were able to speak by blasting notes through their horns when they weren't playing music. The larger unicorn Clip sounded much like a saxophone, while his sister Nyssa's tone resembled an harmonica.

Music was very special to the Blue Adept. Once a serf named Stile from the science world of Proton, he had managed to cross over into the magical world of Phaze and found that he was one of a handful of advanced magic users; his power was derived from music, much like the power of the Yellow Adept came from potions and the Green Adept's source was hand motions.

Hummed, sung or played with an instrument, his magic was most powerful when accompanied by music. Using the White Adept's sigils would do him no good, nor did he have the Red Adept's facility to make magical amulets. But it was just as well; whether the former Stile was the Blue Adept because of his skill in music or his skill in music was enhanced by his position was moot since he loved his form of spell better than any other.

"I would speak with thee, Chanson" the Adept said to his son.

"What do you want to know, father?"

The Adept sighed. "Must thou speak in the manner of Proton? Surely none other speakest like thou."

Chanson smiled. "Then you shouldn't have taught me in the first place. Besides, someone has to keep you in practice - Mother certainly isn't going to do it."

Now it was the Adept's turn to smile at the thought of his wife, the Lady Blue. Born and raised on Phaze, she had crossed the magic curtain only briefly to visit Proton to see the Adept. Well, he was really Stile at the time but he wasn't also - it was rather complicated and remained so until after the two worlds had separated again. "No, although I'm sure she could do it if she really wanted; but what would be the point now? We are on Phaze, and shall never visit Proton again."

Neysa blew a note on her horn.

"Yes, I'm sure the former Blue Adept is happy there with my friend Sheen. The situation there has to be better with the wealth I left behind and the self-willed machines gaining serf status. But don't get me sidetracked - it's Chanson we're talking about. Son, I am perplexed; I have heard reports at thy...er, your...attempts to play music."

The smile that had been on Chanson's face faded. "Is it that bad?" Although not fully grown yet, Harmony was already as tall as his father but he slumped slightly on Neysa's back.

"Well, I am disappointed. The best musicians from the Hill People have toiled to tutor you in the ways of music, but it seems that you not the knack for it. The Lady Blue and I love you regardless, of course, but I had hoped to pass on the mantle of Blue Adept to you some day before I got too old to enjoy life without having the problems of a world to contend with. But the magic that comes from the position must come from music for it to be truly effective."

"What about my sisters?" Chanson asked, referring to his two younger twin sisters Melody and Harmony.

"If need be, they could function adequately in the role; the Brown Adept was quite young when she assumed the position and even at an early age showed many of her abilities which have only gotten better as she has grown up. But from what I've been the oldest child get's first chance at the job, unless a better candidate comes along." The Adept had somewhat blundered into his position, although he wasn't quite sure it was coincidence so much as prophesy; it was impossible to tell for sure, particularly in this world.

"I tried really hard in my lessons. I tried the harmonica, flute, trumpet, harp..."

"Yes, I think we've tried every manner of instrument known to Phaze and some that I've conjured from my previous experiences. No matter what you try, most of your magic fizzles when you try to play or sing."

"I know, father. What I don't know is why."

"I've been giving it a lot of thought, but I didn't want to say anything until I came up with a theory and we were alone."

Clip jerked his head up from his grazing and blasted a chord through his horn.

"Sorry Clip, I meant any other humans around. I'd trust you two with all my foibles - I just didn't want to embarrass Chanson." Neysa chortled from her position but said nothing. "Let me try something. I've got my harmonica of course; I want to play two songs for you."

The Adept put the harmonica to his mouth and played a few bars of an old song he remembered from his days in the Game back on Proton. Even the brief bit of music caused both unicorns to pause and listen in appreciation. "That was the first one. Now here's the second." He then played the same song; playing wrong notes and intentionally off-key while the unicorns pulled their ears back in disapproval. "Okay, did you recognize the songs?"

"I don't know the tune, but you played the same song twice" Chanson answered quickly. "The second time was a little louder, but it was identical otherwise."

The Adept whistled one long, falling note in understanding. "That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"I played the same tune alright, but the second time was full of wrong notes and was off-key. Most people could tell the difference; even Neysa and Clip could tell." The unicorns blasted in agreement.

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that you're tone deaf, or that you suffer from a from of amusia as the doctors used to call it. Some people have it for one reason or another, but what it boils down to is that in your case your head doesn't process music like most people's. You can't discriminate moderate changes in pitch and that is the reason your music has been causing your magic to fizzle" the Adept concluded.

"Then cast a spell and fix me" Chanson answered. "It can't be that hard."

"That's a problem; Adepts can't fix themselves and since you're my son your genetic material is half mine. And it really isn't fixing anyway since it's just the way you are, just like some people are taller than others."

"Can't you use the Book of Magic?"

"I wouldn't want to. That's the master book of spells, and I wouldn't want to change you. Change one thing and who knows what else would get changed in the process; I don't want to risk harming you in other ways" the Adept said, shaking his head. "You're a great person, Chanson, and just because you're not a good match for being the next Blue Adept doesn't mean you can't have a great life doing something else. The whole world is full of..." he said pausing to include present company "...creatures who aren't the Blue Adept. Join the crowd."

"Yeah, I suppose when I look at it that way it's not so bad. I wouldn't want the job anyway," he grinned "it's too much work."

"It's not all work" the Adept shot back. "Race you to that first tree - trotting only." He nudged Clip, who pulled his head up reluctantly from his grass and started off toward the tree. Neysa, who had been paying attention, got the jump and the early lead. Both quickly switched into the five-beat trot, that rhythm peculiar to unicorns that was the most difficult to master. As Clip's longer legs and strides slowly closed the gap to Neysa, the Adept noticed a small cloud forming over the leading pair and the grass waving around them. He pulled to a halt and watched as they made it to the tree; the cloud dissipated and the grass stilled. The Adept hurried to join them.

"Beat you!" Neysa laughed musically with a few quick notes through her horn. Clip was about to reply when the Adept interrupted.

"What were you doing?" he asked his son.

"What? You said race to first tree by trotting. We did. We won fair and square."

"Not that. Were you doing anything while riding?"

"No! Neysa just broke into her five-beat trot and I started playing an accompanying beat on the saddle like this" Chanson said as he started to tap out a cadence on the leather. Immediately a cloud started to form overhead and the grass started swirling around them. The Adept pointed it out and Chanson noticed the phenomenon for the first time; when he stopped the effect abated. The son's eyes widened in a mixture of amazement and bewilderment at what happened.

The Adept slapped his palm against his head. "Of course! It was there all along."

"What was?"

"Your music. I've always thought of music as notes, pitch and volume. But I'd completely forgotten there is another part of music that is just as important; percussion and beat! Just because you can't carry a normal tune doesn't mean you don't have music in you - it's just coming out in another form, almost like the heartbeat of magic. I know from experience that it's not always what I say when I cast a spell; it's even more important how I have it set up in my head. Make no mistake about it - you were playing music." The Adept started to chuckle, then laughed until he started to tear up.

"That's great, but why is it so funny?" Chanson asked.

"Because," the Adept said as he recovered his breath "it means you're still a candidate for Blue Adept. You're not getting out of it that easy!"

The End

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**A/N: I only read the first three books in the series, but it was enough to introduce the characters and give a resolution to the crisis that threatened both worlds. I don't know how the other books picked up, but I imagine this as a possibility. I've had the debate before about what constitutes music, and personally I find that even such things as the clickity-clack of moving trains and the patter of rain is music of a sorts as much as baroque or rap; they're all just different as much as an apple and orange differ from each other.**


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